by Kyle West
“Enough time to forget what it had originally contained,” Isaru said.
“Indeed,” Karai said. “Now, where do Clerics come into all of that? Well, we teach the people our ancient traditions, for one. Our history is full of stories, and stories contain messages, truths, and lessons that are easily understood by all. The Clerics are responsible for ministering to communities in any way they can – performing marriages and funerals, advising leaders, and seeking out those of Elekai blood for training in the Sanctum. A Cleric is marked by his or her common sense, hard work, and love of people. The very best can direct the energy of the xen to heal sickness, just as a Sage might do with plants; ours is called Xenohealing.”
Karai then went over all of the things we’d learn in the next few weeks...medicine, healing, and of Karai’s own experiences in the field, which must have been a little limited because she couldn’t have been a day over twenty-five.
All in all, we finished early and Isaru and I found ourselves with an hour to kill before we were required to meet with our final instructor – Elder Isandru.
“I think I’m going to go watch the Champs practice,” Samal said. “I’ll see the rest of you later.”
Ret went off to join him, leaving Isaru, Nabea, and me standing alone.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Shanti,” Nabea said, with a short bow. He then glanced at Isaru, giving a nod. “Prince Isaru.”
With that, he turned and left the balcony of the Dome of Truth.
“Do you know him?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “Full of himself, that one. I’ve known him since I was twelve. I’ve only seen him a few times, but the first thing he always does is find the prettiest girl he can lay his eyes on, and then he chats them up.”
I smiled. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
He shook his head. “Of course not. He just gets on my nerves. Forget all that, though. What did Isandru tell you last night?”
“Let’s go somewhere else, first,” I said. “The ramparts, maybe. I think there’s a door that leads out there.”
We left the Dome, exiting through a door that led to the northern rampart. There was no one else around.
“Alright,” I said. “I suppose it will help if you hear everything...”
I proceeded to tell him about my dream and how I was led through the Arch, followed by my vision of the barren wasteland. I told him about how the voice said that this was what the world would become, as well as about Hyperborea and the Sea of Creation.
Isaru listened closely, not speaking until I was done. “What did Isandru say about your dream?”
I shrugged. “He seemed to not think much of it, actually. Apparently it’s common for initiates to think they’re prophesying.”
“Did he at least mention it was possible that it was a prophecy? I mean, you learned about the Sea of Creation when you’ve never even heard of it. Even I haven’t heard of it.”
“He didn’t seem to think it was a prophecy, but he did say Hyperborea was a real place.”
I went on to tell him everything Isandru had told me: about how the city created the Xenofont to tap the Sea of Creation. Though they were able to perform incredible feats with the ichor, it had been their undoing in the end, leading to a swarm of Mindless that destroyed the city along with its people.
Isaru was quiet for a while, seeming to think over the story.
“He talked about another Prophetess as well, who predicted Hyperborea’s fall,” I said. “He said her name was Mia Farl.”
“I haven’t heard of her.”
“Isandru said she was only fifteen when that happened.”
“At the very least, Mia Farl gives me something new to research. It’s strange. Everything I’ve heard about the city tells me that its fall is a matter for debate, and it’s often questioned whether it truly existed. Are you saying that Isandru gave a definitive answer? It was because of this Xenofont?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe it was just one of the reasons. He certainly seemed to imply it was the reason it was destroyed, though.”
“Interesting,” Isaru said. “That definitely gives me a lot of leads. With Kais’s pass, I might be able to learn even more.”
“I still can’t believe he gave you that.”
“I’m sure there aren’t too many initiates as determined as me to get on the second floor,” he said. “It’s probably not a common request.”
“Just...don’t obsess over this. We already have a lot on our plates.”
“I know,” he said. He looked at me sideways, but didn’t say anything further.
“Maybe the Scholars are the right Sect for you,” I said. “But it would be tough to have to work for Haris.”
It looked as if Isaru was going to say something else, but the bell tolled a total of six times. It still seemed too early for our next lesson, so Isaru and I looked at each other, confused.
“It’s not time for our lesson with Isandru, is it?”
Isaru shook his head. “No. Nowhere close.”
We left the ramparts and reentered the Sanctum, finding ourselves once again on the overhanging balcony of the Seekers’ Dome. During the time we were away, it seemed as if quite a few Seekers had gathered in the chamber. Were they going to debate something? It had to be important, considering the fact that lessons were still going on.
“Maybe this is what the bells were for,” I said.
Nabea was watching the chamber floor from just a few feet away.
“What’s going on?” Isaru asked him.
“A crisis session was called by the Elders.”
“What for?” I asked.
“I don’t know. All we can do is watch.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
OVER THE NEXT FEW MINUTES, the stone seats in the seven partitions of the Seekers’ Dome filled. Seekers sat according to their Sect, and Sects such as the Champions, the Augurs, and the Clerics vastly outnumbered the Sages, and especially the Prophets. The numbers of the Judges and the Scholars seemed to fall between, but taken altogether, it was obvious that this massive Dome had been designed to hold far more Seekers than it did now.
After a few more minutes, the stream of Seekers entering the Sanctum had slowed to a trickle, and at least half the seats were still empty. The Champions’ tunics were still damp with the sweat of their training. The Scholars blinked drearily, as if they had been poring over tomes all day. The Judges were quiet and implacable, while the Sages sat serenely, seeming to be in tune with a power higher than themselves. The second-floor balcony was getting crowded with initiates and apprentices alike, who whispered to each other quietly, trying to determine the cause of the unexpected session.
At long last, the seven Elders entered the Dome in a line, and everyone went quiet. Their footfalls echoed off the Dome above.
They took their seats at the very bottom of the Dome, forming a ring. It was quiet for a moment before Elder Arminius of the Augurs, as Chief Elder, took the High Seat facing the others. His voice resounded in the Dome.
“Seekers, I’ll do what I can to keep our time brief,” he said. “A reversion has been found just a few miles north of Nava Mountain, beyond the river.”
The Dome came alive with murmurs and whispers, which were stilled as Arminius continued speaking.
“We first noticed signs upon returning to the Sanctum from Haven,” Aurelius went on. “A crawler was found floating in the river, which spurred us to investigate as soon as we returned. We sent Seekers Barrat, Aran, and Garin north. I would call on them now to give an account of their findings.”
As Arminius sat, the three Seekers stood – Garin, the very same Champion who had instructed us yesterday, along with a stately male Cleric with brown hair, and a swarthy Sage who had his head shaved bald and a stony demeanor. He was so well-muscled that at first glance I would have thought him a Champion if not for his green sash, which identified him as a Sage.
They made their way down to the center of the Dome
, and stood in the middle of the gathered Elders.
“Seeker Barrat,” Arminius said, “the floor is yours.”
Barrat the Sage nodded. “We left yesterday afternoon, traveling north of Nava Mountain and across the river. By evening we reached the reversion. It appeared no different from any other area of the Wild, and yet I sensed an...emptiness. The reversion is in its earliest stages, and it’s only a matter of time before the xen goes dark. This is a place that the Xenofold could not touch, but since our leaving, there has been little reversion among the plant and animal life. The reversion is large, if weak; with enough Sages, the xen can be retaught to connect with the Xenofold.”
Seeker Barrat finished his account, and Elder Champion Tellor was the first to speak.
“How long until the Sages can reclaim it?”
“A few weeks, at least,” Barrat said. “Maybe longer.”
“What caused it to revert?” Scholar Karu asked. “Why would a reversion happen so near to us, and so far south? This deserves further study.”
Barrat gave a slight bow. “Indeed, it does. During the next expedition, I’d like to work with a few Scholars with knowledge of such things.”
Karu nodded, apparently satisfied.
“Have any more crawlers been found?” Cleric Draeus asked.
Barrat shook his head. “No. Not yet, anyway. We guessed that the dead crawler found must have come from further north, because any reversion among xenolife usually doesn’t happen for weeks after the xen grows dark. However, as we all know, the longer the reversion is allowed to remain, the more dangerous it becomes.” Barrat looked at the Council levelly. “As such, I request no less than ten Champions to accompany us to the reversion, before it turns to Blight.”
The Dome seemed to go stiller than usual. Apparently, ten Champions was a high number to request.
“That is nearly half our Champions currently in the Sanctum, Sage Barrat,” Elder Tellor said. “Do you really believe it’s so dangerous?”
“When it’s this close to home, yes. In fact, if you had placed me in the center of this reversion without my knowing where I was, I would have guessed we were two hundred miles northeast of our current location.”
No one had to ask him what lay to the northeast.
“And what other personnel and supplies will you require?” Elder Arminius asked.
“Six Sages should be enough to restore the reversion to its former state,” Barrat said confidently. “Two Scholars, for research purposes. The ten Champions, as I’ve already mentioned.” Barrat paused. “And one Prophet.”
“Why the Prophet?” Isandru asked.
“A Prophet has an expertise a Sage does not, in reading the xen and the Xenofold. As you undoubtedly know, Elder Prophet, the Xenofold weakens at the point of reversion, which presents a unique opportunity for visions and prophecies. If Prophetess Fiona is available...”
“I’ll go myself,” Elder Isandru said. “Thank you.”
“And when do you plan to mount this expedition?” Aurelius asked.
“As soon as we gain enough volunteers. Tonight, if possible. This reversion, while weak, is also large and lies close to home. It must be dealt with quickly.”
“Do you or your team have anything further to report?”
Barrat shook his head. “No, Chief Elder. We stand ready to serve the Sanctum. If we leave now, we might make it to the crossing before nightfall.”
“Do any among the Elders have further questions?” Arminius asked.
The Elders remained silent, but appeared troubled.
“Given that this is a crisis session,” Chief Elder Arminius said, “we will have an Elders’ vote. All those in favor of the expedition as prescribed by Seeker Barrat, say aye.”
All the Elders, in unison, assented.
“All those who say nay.” A short silence followed. “I hereby order by the authority of the Elder Council that an expedition be sent to reclaim the reversion. This expedition shall consist of ten Champions, six Sages, two Scholars, and one Prophet. Furthermore, the Seekers who originally investigated the reversion shall go, as representatives of their respective Sects.”
“And what of the Judges?” Elder Lian asked. “Will they not have a representative?”
The three Seekers on the floor shared a glance, before Barrat spoke. “None of us are opposed. A Judge may join us informally.”
“Why make it informal?” Elder Lian asked. “Let us formally amend the original pronouncement.”
“Very well,” Chief Elder Arminius said, “All those in favor of one Judge to accompany the expedition as well, say aye.”
Quickly, all Elders assented, and Lian settled back, satisfied.
“This concludes the session,” Chief Elder Arminius said. “You may all return to your duties.”
The Dome then broke into various conversations. Isaru, Nabea, and I watched the milling Seekers below. Already, it was being decided who should go and who should stay.
“It’s bad, then?” I asked.
Isaru nodded. “A reversion means any life that germinates there is free of the directives of the Xenofold. A reversion is simply the first stage. The second stage is called a Blight...a swath of territory that is openly hostile to Elekai life.” Isaru looked at me sideways. “It is the Sages’ duty to stop reversions and prevent them from happening in the first place. The fact that one has happened so close to home doesn’t bode well for the Sect.”
“Yeah,” I said. “They do seem a bit distressed.”
I wasn’t even sure if that was the right word, but Isaru seemed to understand what I meant.
“No one truly knows what causes reversions,” Isaru said. “Some say reversions are as much a part of the Red Wild as anything else – it’s just in recent years, with the Seekers’ numbers so few, we haven’t been able to do much about them. The further afield from the Sanctum one goes, the more dangerous it becomes.”
Last night, Elder Isandru had implied that Hyperborea had caused the reversions. Then, there was my dream: Hyperborea has set the scar that can never be healed. Could that have meant the reversions?
When I looked at Isaru, his eyes were distant, as if he were wondering the same thing. I didn’t say anything, because Nabea was still there. For some reason, I wanted to keep this to myself.
“We should probably go,” Isaru said. “Don’t want to be late for our first lesson.”
I looked at Nabea. “Are you staying?”
He nodded. “I’ve had a few lessons with Isandru, but I don’t have the Gift.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t concern me. I hope to join the Champions, anyway.”
“Well, I suppose we’ll see you around.”
“Farewell, Shanti.”
Isaru and I left the second floor to head for Isandru’s office.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
WE ENTERED THE HALL OF Elders, accessible by a wide arch leading out from the Great Hall. It brought Isaru and me to a wide, open area, lit by a chandelier of shimmering lights. It was about half the size of the Great Hall, and there were about a dozen paintings of various sizes hanging from the walls: battle scenes, profiles of past Elders and kings, dragons in flight, depictions of Old Colonia, among many others.
A desk stood at the far end of the chamber, and behind it sat an apprentice who appeared bored. He perked up when Isaru and I entered, blinking a few times as we stepped forward.
“We’re here to see Elder Isandru,” Isaru said.
“He hasn’t returned from the session, yet,” the apprentice said. “Feel free to find a seat, or browse the museum, if you wish.”
I remembered Augur Grenwold mentioning the museum. “Where is it?”
The apprentice nodded toward the other side of the hall. “Just through there. We have a wide collection of artifacts, dating from all four centuries of Elekai history.” The apprentice blinked. “Some even have their origins in the Great Library of Annara.”
I turned to Isaru. “Should we go take a look?”
; We walked across the reception area, discovering that the paintings all had plaques, showing the name of the painting and who painted it, as well as how old it was. We stood in front of a large one, depicting a shining city in the desert with people working in fields outside its walls. A few dragons, without riders, circled above. It was entitled, “The Farmers of Old Colonia, 22 A.R.” It was painted by someone named Julio Valencia.
“Twenty-two years after Ragnarok,” I said. “Incredible. The city doesn’t look much different today than it did then. If anything, it’s smaller.”
“It’s like it’s stuck in time,” Isaru said. “Only...this was long enough ago that the Elekai were still there. See those dragons? They’re both Radaska and Askaleen.” He paused. “No, not mere dragons. Elder Dragons.”
“How can you tell the difference?” I asked.
“I can’t,” Isaru said. “If this painting is as old as it says it is, it was painted long before the Sundering. At the time, gods still walked the Earth.”
We moved on from the painting, entering another room through an archway. This space was large, boasting dozens of display cases bearing swords and other weapons, strange artifacts, and sculptures. We browsed for a while, but we probably didn’t have time to see everything.
Isaru, at last, made his way to a central display case. When I joined him, I could see that one of the artifacts was an ancient weapon, surprisingly small, that looked like it could be held in one hand. It stood next to a long, slightly curved sword with a black, worn hilt, not unlike the shape of the ones used for practice in the Grove.
“Berett and Katan,” Isaru said. “The weapons of Elekim and Annara.”
I looked for a moment. Berett, surprisingly, was a lot smaller than I had imagined, from the stories and what I had seen in the pictures. The barrel was small, and it was hard to imagine anything shooting out of it and doing damage. Some stories said it shot fire itself, and others said it just shot bullets.
